


You Cry

by sporkberries



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Bad Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot Has Daddy Issues, Wilbur Soot also has fins, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, fish boy babey!!!, phil isnt really a purposefully bad dad but also jesus christ dude, technoblade is going through it, though they are adopted siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:56:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29859831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporkberries/pseuds/sporkberries
Summary: “There's No Way To Stop A Heartbreak. How Do You Do That?”  - The Midnight GospelTechnoblade deals with the fallout of the Manberg explosion.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Technoblade
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	You Cry

**Author's Note:**

> With Wilbur entering the lore again I wanted to explore his character relationships, also i am just a sucker for techbur /p.

Through the ashes, rubble, and clouds of dust a lone pig walks through the remnants of a mad man. He steps over bricks that once belonged to houses and the broken glass of windows. There’s nowhere to step that isn't covered in ash, broken glass, splinters, or blood. Hell, the fires haven't even gone completely out some still smoldering beneath the debris. As he moves down to enter a cavity in the earth he can see a single human arm peeking out from a pile of rubble, completely unmoving with the exception of the drying blood dripping down its fingers. A once living person now just another part of the calamity. Through a winding sewer system shaken by the explosions, with cracks exposing it to the sunlight and random crossroads caved in by rock and other debris, he finds a room. It's hard to miss it when you go near it as the sunlight peers in from the giant crater in its walls, if you can even call them that. The scrawlings on the wall once containing a beautiful poem turn tragedy were ineligible destroyed with the nation and man it sung the praises of. The pig stops. Not for the sunlight or the writings the button on the wall or the blood and death that seems to cover the room. He stops for the empty husk on the floor. 

Technoblade loved his brother, polar opposites they may be. Techno was a creature born of fire and lava, a creature who craved blood and violence and never knew much else. Wilbur though… he was soft. From the ocean and the sea so evidenced with the gills on his neck and his sirens song, Wilbur loved companionship, Wilbur loved people. He didn’t need to fight or brute force his way to the finish line he’d either charm you onto his side or trick you out of your spot. As Techno had outbursts and would scream in the middle of the night, as he’d hear the voices in his head begging to be quenched with blood, Wilbur would write and sing. He always seemed to be doing something. Whether it be partying with friends writing or pulling some inane prank. As Wilbur was seemingly thriving it’s no surprise really that Techno got more parental attention.

Their father could tell Techno needed help, and with all the focus on one drowning child he failed to notice his other son falling into the deep end. Maybe it was just that Wilbur didn’t showcase his madness so blatantly as techno. Where techno would preach about a blood god only he can hear and slay mercilessly Wilbur would remain silent. Sometimes Wil would just sit in his room never leaving his bed an empty look in his eyes. He wouldn’t eat he wouldn't sing he’d just sit and stare. Phil of course noted this and did the best he could to help his other son, never knowing of the nights were wilbur would sit his friends passed out drunk next to him and his thoughts consuming him. Paranoia, fear, and manic distrust and the brilliant and kind Wilbur wrapped his hands around the throats of people who trusted him.

Jealousy is a dangerous thing, and to be honest Technoblade was the last person you’d expect someone like Wilbur to be jealous of. Wilbur had looks, talent, and charm while techno was a socially awkward pig who committed heinous war crimes on a good day. But oh was Wilbur jealous of the brother he so adored, the brother he brushed the hair of and held when he had nightmares the brother hed clean the blood off of on a particularly bad day. Techno was strong and regardless of his neurosis got along better with their father than Will ever could. Technoblade loved sparring and contests and Technoblade loved politics and war. Wilbur was just the other son, the one who faded into the background as that one hipster kid with a guitar. Wilbur’s jealousy never truly turned bitter till their younger brother, Tommy was around 8 years old and Techno and Phil left for the arctic. With Philza and Technoblade off on a fun expedition Wilbur was left for months on end, still a teenager himself, forced to raise his little brother. Wilbur loved Tommy let no one tell you otherwise but the pain of your father so clearly abandoning you to raise his child intentionally or not is a wound that never truly healed. Still almost blind to the pain he was causing when Philza returned home one day to a note from his son, telling him he was leaving the nest and going off on his own he thought nothing of it. But still with all of this, no one could expect the lead to the destruction surrounding the pig as he crouched down, his cape torn with holes and scorch marks brushing the dirty floor.

The pig brought a hand to the corpse’s face, as cold as stone. The once vibrant light of Wilbur Soot completely extinguished leaving behind only cold and empty ruins. His once clean hair was matted and dirty and his remaining eye bore large dark bags. This dirty greasy thing was nothing like his brother, but it was all… it was all that was left. Technoblade was not a man who cried, he was stoic and strong and sarcastic without a care in the world but the tears wouldnt stop coming as he covered the hole in his brothers abdomen and began pulling him into his chest. The crunching of dried sticky blood echoing off the walls and he embraced the cadaver. He longed for the warmth of his childhood when Wilbur would sing to him and brush his hair, he longed for the warmth of Wilbur sneaking into his embrace on a cold night he longed for so much. But all that was left was a broken room and the taste of iron on his tongue.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on twitter if you want communism and vilbur appreciation @sporkberries.


End file.
